


Can't You Hear Me Callin'

by Willow_Warbler



Category: Death Stranding (Video Games)
Genre: Dialogue Heavy, Drunken Kissing, Farm/Ranch, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Meeting After Years, Pining, Post-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Sam is still a neurotic prey animal but he got a bit better, call to agriculture, just straight up a petting zoo, not too drunk dont worry, world building
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:35:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26774500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Willow_Warbler/pseuds/Willow_Warbler
Summary: When Deadman heard rumors of a worker with arms marred with handprints in the Timefall Farm, he couldn’t believe his ears.
Relationships: Sam Porter Bridges/Deadman
Comments: 15
Kudos: 46





	1. The days are dark, the nights are lonely, how I need your sweet embrace

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Thank you for reading my work!  
> I came up with the idea for this fic after remembering that "I could kiss you you sweet son of a bitch!" line from after defeating the final boss of Death Stranding and my headcanon that Sam went to live on the Timefall Farm after the whole incinerator fiasco. I wanted to write it as one piece, but I got kinda... carried away, so it's gonna be two now, for ease of reading. This is more of a setup, I'll get to that sweet sweet Deadsam meat and potatos in the next one.  
> English is not my first language, sorry if something is written inelegantly or slightly weird ':D  
> T for language, suggestive language and canon-typical violence.  
> Title for the work and chapters is from a song by Crooked Still, I really recommend it, I think it really fits the vibe I'm going for here :D

When Deadman heard rumors of a worker with arms marred with handprints in the Timefall Farm, he couldn’t believe his ears.

Porters who came with their cargo to Central Knot had all kinds of tales, more or less legitimate. The mysterious farmhand, however, kept appearing in hushed conversations around the base and private rooms on a regular basis. Just last night, when he coming back to his office from a consultation with a Porter who broke her leg and had to be carried back by her teammates, half-dead, he heard three Porters conversing in the corridor in a conspiratory tone, their voices echoing in the empty corridor;

\- No way! Do you really think it was, y’know,… Him?

\- I’m sure man! Who else would have these stencils on their arms!? Had to be him!

\- Please,- The third one, seemingly the eldest, groused- The network spans the entire continent. If that was him, they could track him by the cufflinks.

Deadman swallowed.

\- He’s probably dead anyway.- The third one continued.- I’ve heard from Igor’s brother that his BB was decomissioned. He probably threw himself into that incinerator from grief. 

Deadman stared into the wall, blank and clean, unlike his mind, clenching his jaw. 

He hasn’t seen Sam for a year, though it felt so much longer. A year ago he took off his cufflinks, even though he shouldn’t, and a year since he watched Sam go for his last treck. A year since Sam hugged him out of his own free will. He could still feel the phantom warmth of Sam’s arms on his back, his heartbeat right next to his, and his breath on the side of his neck. He thought about him every day, ruminating on his current whereabouts. 

Not knowing was the worst. He’d rather know that Sam really did emmolate himself along with Lou, at least then he could have some closure. Were they both still alive? Did he cremate Lou and lived as a hermit in the mountains, grieving? Did they both perished that day, together? He would be none the wiser even if he’d spend a hundread years thinking about it. A part of him was sad and disappointed that Sam naver tried to contact him, if he was still alive. Not an email, not a letter, no nothing. The scientific and rational part of his brain understood that Sam likely wouldn’t want to put himself (and Lou?) in danger if the message got into wrong hands. The selfish, emotional part of him felt sad and even somewhat betrayed: he helped Sam escape. Would a signal that he was alive and well too much? He usually had a good grasp on his emotions, but, despite how much he wanted to deny it, he was still a human, and these thoughts, almost like some pack of wolves, tended to get him at his weakest moments. 

He really didn’t want to get his hopes up with these rumors. Would a loner like Sam really join a commune? He wanted to say he knew Sam well and was his friend, but the Legendary Porter was a very mysterious and secretive man. Maybe being a farmhand wasn’t that out of character for him? He certainly had the strenght for it. The image of Sam, cutting wheat, breathing deeply, wiping beads of sweat from his forehead, taut muscles in his strong arms shifting… Deadman felt the red creeping up his neck.   
A smile tugged at the corners of his lips. The next time there will be an ocassion to visit Timefall Farm, he will take it. For now, he will keep his eyes and ears open for any more information regarding the mysterious man. 

His footsteps echoed through the empty halls while he made his way to his office.  
\--------  
Deadman never supposed that his search for Sam will end up with him tied up in a MULE camp. 

When Die-Hardman sent a message that he needed a BRIGES member from the medicine and science division to check on the progress members of the Timefall Farm made, Deadman volunteered before even thinking. It could’ve been his only opportunity in a long time to check the rumors regarding Sam. If any other member of BRIDGES went there, they could’ve ratted Sam out, and Deadman simply couldn’t allow that to happen. He also dreaded the idea that the poor people working there would face consequences for harboring a fugitive.   
He told his security to stay back in the Weather Station and rest, and that he will be back next morning. The trek was short enough that even he could make it on foot. Security personel who was assigned to him tried to protest, but it was clear they were exhausted, and gave up relatively quickly, letting him investigate on his own.

One thing he didn’t account for were the MULEs. He was careless, assuming that they will leave him alone if he doesn’t have any cargo on him. Apparently though, being territorial can be added to the symptom list of the porter syndrome. He tried to run, but they had a much better condition than him, as expected from someone acustomed to rough living and chasing their prey. They didn’t even resort to the spears, opting for throwing a rope, like he was a cow escaping from slaughter. He slammed his back against the ground, making him see stars. He could feel the ground shaking underneath him (or maybe it was just the throbbing in his head?), louder and louder with each second.

\- Guys! He doesn’t have anything on him!- One of them called out.

More and more footsteps echoed around him. His eyelids were closed, but he could feel less and less sunlight on his face. He opened his eyes weakly, to see three balaclaved men staring down at him.

\- Oh shit, he’s alive! Thank god!- The second one croaked with relief. Deadman felt slightly less scared; they weren’t going to kill him. He knew MULEs aren’t about that, but his more prone to panic side was satisfied for now.

\- Who the fuck is that, anyway?!- The first one barked, roughly grabbing him by the cheekbones with one hand, and started to turn his head. Deadman couldn’t bring himself to look directly at them, shutting his eyes in humiliation.

\- Look at this.- The third one, silent for now, spoke. He slapped the second one’s hand away, and grabbed the Quipu attached to the lapel of his coat. He didn’t rip it off, which was borderline worse, because he kept playing with the strands, making Deadman constantly aware of his proximity and touch. 

\- He’s a BRIGES official.- He explained to his companions, mercifully taking his hand away from Deadman.- Take him to the base, we’ll think of what to do with him later.- He stood up, walking away and letting the light hit his face once again. 

The other two grabbed him by the arms, and started to pull him towards a dilapitated barn. Deadman wanted to groan, but he couldn’t force himself to make a sound.

They pushed him against a wall, tying his palms and feet together, and left, without saying a word. MULE shelters were usually pretty open and clearly not made with holding prisoners in mind. They left the huge barn door slightly ajar, letting a small sliver of light into the gigantic building, glinting off Deadman’s glasses. He struggled to loosen up the rope around his hands, but it was no use; it seemed to be reinforced with some sort of wire, making it much more stiff and tight and there was a slim chance he’ll get it off by himself without a blade of some sort. Deadman sighed, shoulders slumping, dread creeping into his heart. They knew they weren’t going to kill him, but that was hardly comforting, oddly enough. His security was likely sleeping off their travel, and he doubted anyone in HQ will worry enough about him to be constantly keeping tabs on the location of his cufflinks. People of the Timefall Farm knew someone from BRIDGES is going to pay them a visit, but they didn’t know who and when exactly. 

Deadman leaned onto the wall, pressing his cheek against rough wood. What did they even want from him? Ransom? Maybe hurt him in some way that would send BRIDGES the message along the lines of „don’t fuck with us or our territory”? He shruddered at the thought. In times like this, he really envied Sam. Sam could fight, he could run… He probably had thirty different ways of getting past a camp like this, without even thinking much about it. And he did, almost every day, for a huge chunk of his adult life, with stacks and stacks of cargo on his back and an infant on his chest. 

\- Hey! Morons! Over here!- The shrill voice of a MULE echoed through the empty barn from outside, catching Deadman’s attention. 

He could hear the whiz of air, and the suprised scream of a MULE, who fell onto the barn door, letting more light inside. 

\- Mark!- Another one yelled, running to his friend.

A shilouette jumped out into the light, brutally hitting Mark’s friend in the face. Droplets of saliva glistened in the air as the punches connected with the MULE’s skull. The attacker delivered a swift kick in the MULE’s stomach, causing him to fall over, likely unconcious and hopefully not dead. The stranger turned his head into the barn. Deadman couldn’t see their eyes, but he could feel their gaze, as smouldering as the sun outside.

\- D-Don’t attack!- He spat out.- I’m not one of them, I’m not gonna hurt you!

The stranger drew their weapon and started to approach him slowly, each steps of the heavy boots ringing through the air like a gunshot. Deadman shut his eyes, trying to prepare for whatever will come next.  
The stranger took a few more steps and stopped.

\- Deadman…?- a familiar rasp made his eyes shoot open.

Impossible. 

Deadman turned his head towards his savior, both excited and scared beyond belief. The barn was still dark, but the light that was here caught onto the man’s silky, shoulder-lenght brown hair, a single bright blue eye with a tiny pupil, and a small part of a baseball hat with the letters „…ES” visible, a part of a longer word that was right now shrouded in the darkness. 

Funnily enough, that was the thing that sealed the deal for him.

\- Sam…?- He practically whispered. He felt tears run down his cheeks and was hoping Sam couldn’t see them glint in the limited light.

\- What are you doing here…?- Sam asked, his weapon still drawn.

\- I’m on a mission from BRIDGES to the Timefall Farm.- He manager to keep his voice even.

\- What kind of mission…?- Sam’s tone was unredable, but Deadman had a hunch as to why.

\- Just checking on how the new strains of crops are doing and the plans about new types of food. Nothing to specifically do with you.- Some surge of bravery allowed Deadman to keep the eye contact with Sam. He felt quite proud of himself.

Sam looked to the side, as if considering something. He finally, mercifully, lowered down his weapon, and turned around, taking out a small box and clicked a small button on its side.

\- Cass, this is Sam.- He spoke.- I’ve cleared out the camp and I’m going to get the cargo. 

\- Sam, this is Cass.- A female voice crackled with static.- Copy that. Are you hurt?

\- No, I’m fine.- He looked back at Deadman.- There’s a BRIGES employee here, he was supposed to check on our progres with the crops…?

\- Can he hear us?- She asked in a conspiratory tone, slightly quieter now.

\- It’s fine, he’s safe, I know him from before.- He confirmed.

Deadman felt his heart flutter in his chest.

\- Well then, get our cargo and come here ASAP, both of you. Don’t want you two staying out there for too long, not worth the risk. Over.

\- Over.- Sam answered, Deadman could hear a button click, while Sam fiddled with his belt again. He took out a small, crescent moon-shaped blade that reflected off a brilliant golden shine. 

Chiralium scythe.

Sam came closer and grabbed Deadman’s arm, pulling them slightly apart and started to work on his restraint. Deadman lowered his head, slightly. Now he understood what Sam must’ve felt when he had   
an allergic reaction; his flesh was burning and itching, and yet, he didn’t want to move his hand away. He almost wondered if Sam’s touch is gonna give him a chiral stencil of his own. 

\- We’re gonna talk when we get out of here. Not safe now.- Sam said quietly, the rope holding Deadman’s hands together finally snapping away completely.

\- I thought you took all of them out.- Deadman whispered, trying to rub the bloodflow back into his wrists.

\- I did.- Sam was sawing the rope around Deadma’s feet.- I don’t want to risk one of these fuckers waking up.

With a snap ringing through the still air like a whip, Sam rose to his feet, and stepped back, slinging the gun over his shoulder. 

\- Can you walk?

\- Yes, I think I’ll be just…- Deadman stood up slowly, his knees aching from being pressed into concrete- Fine.

Sam turned towards the open door and waved his fingers in a „follow me” gesture and quickly walked towards the light. Deadman followed slower, still a bit shaken up.

The moment they went outside and the fresh air hit them, Deadman felt a chill down his spine, adrenalinę still coursing through his bloodstream. He made it through, he survived, he was here now, under the blue sky, long blades of grass brushing against his ankles. Now, in full light, he could take a closer look at Sam.

It was astounding just how little he has changed. He was still stocky and muscular, though it shouldn’t be anything suprising, if his job still involved taking out entire MULE camps. He was wearing a white tank top and a timefall-proof green suit, with the sleeves wrapped around his middle, and a pair of sturdy all-terrain boots. Deadman recognised the color as one that the employees of Knot Cities’ greenhouses wore. His arms were still just as strong as he remembered, now tanned and still covered in those legendary handprints, like a ghastly version of freckles. His face was framed by the same, chin lenght hair, with his bright blue eyes shielded by a blue BRIDGES hat, now worn and dirty. He looked a lot better than he used to, but not because of anything physical, maybe except the lack of bags under his eyes. It felt as if his psyche was in a much better shape, and it was beaming out from his soul.

It took every ounce of Deadman’s self-restraint, now dangerously inhibited due to adrenaline, to not kiss him so roughly they’d topple over into the tall grass behind them, and just savour this one celebratory moment of being alive.

\- We’ll talk later, not safe here.- Sam said, scanning around the camp, clearly looking for something specific.

That brought Deadman straight back to Earth. He stifled a smile. Sam, always so practical, probably didn’t find anything remotely romantic about this place. He couldn’t be mad at him, why would he? If not for his hyperawareness, he’d probably have died during his first ever delivery. 

\- What were you doing here, Sam? Looking for BRIDGES scientists in need of a rescuse?- Deadman quickly ran to Sam, who was walking straight towards a MULE postbox.

\- Hah!- He laughed dryly, but Deadman still felt his heart flutter.- No, nothing like this. We have a new courier, he’s a good kid, but doesn’t know the trade yet. Lost a few containers of soy seeds we’ve ordered.

„We”. Deadman had an idea as to who Sam was talking about, but his scientific mind needed empirical evidence. He will find out soon enough, he supposed, right after they’ll find Sam’s precious cargo. 

\- Can’t they just place an order for a porter to retrive it?- Deadman asked, trying to gauge more about the „we”.

\- We’re so far from any Knot Cities that before any porter gets here, we’ll starve.- Sam said dryly.- They have an ex-porter with them, so they’re gonna ask him. I have to repay my debt somehow.- He shrugged.

Sam pulled out the device he used to communicate with Cass from a utility pouch on his waist, and pointed it towards the postbox. The outer layer opened, while the gadget displayed a jittering hologram, reminiscent of the one BRIDGES cufflinks displayed when hacking. The door opened with a hiss, showing a bounty of cargo and materials boxes. Sam begun rummaging through them, carelessly dropping the ones he didn’t want to the ground. 

\- So… how are you do-

\- Hold this.- Sam pushed a cargo container into Deadman’s chest, air knocked out of the scientist’s lungs. He barely caught it before it fell and destroyed the precious soy inside.

Sam grabbed two containers, one in each hand, and urged Deadman to follow with a head gesture. He pointed his chin towards the tall grass, Timefall Farm looming before them.   
They went into the overgrown foliage, Sam first with Deadman right behind him, clutching the metal box close to his chest, protectively. He never delivered any cargo himself, but he started to understand the thrill of making deliveries, even though Sam was doing most of the legwork. He looked in front of him, at Sam’s back, the clear blue sky with sun hanging above them, and the abundance of green surrounding them. He almost never left Cenral Knot, and even when he did, it was mostly to another Knot cities, all of them having the same standardized, industrial look. The rustle of the grass, the heat of the sun on his skin, actual, honest-to-god ground, not concrete or panels, under his feet… it was almost overwhelming. If not for Sam’s grounding presence, he’d surely never leave that barn they kept him in, even if he was untied, too anxious to make that first step. 

\- Are you, uh, okay?- Sam asked, not stopping or even looking back, the worry in his voice still clear.- We have a medic, s-so it’s not a problem-

\- I’m fine Sam, thank you for your concern.- Deadman answered, trying to sound as calm as he could. Even now, he could tell Sam was doing his best to show care, but he still sounded like he was insecure about this.

They finally pushed through the grass, walking onto a beaten road leading to the Timefall Farm. Deadman has never been here in person, only as a chiralgram. He saw all of this before, but now that he was here in person, he felt like he was here for the first time in his life. The swaths of golden wheat dancing in the wind reminded him of chiralium, of all things. The main building stood to the side, covering some of the plants from sunlight. Among huge harvesters, Deadman could see a couple of people here and there, working tirelesly, cutting the crops in the nooks and crannies the machines couldn’t reach. 

\- Is this where you live now, Sam?- Deadman ran up to Sam.

\- Yeah, I guess you can say that.- Sam shrugged, but a small smile still tugged on his lips.

Absolutely incredible. This place reminded him of farms in Knot cities. It was very similar, but just the fact that it wasn’t under a roof, and that there were people working alongside the machines, instead of being mostly automated gave off a completely different feeling, like he was caught in another supercell and moved to an old fashioned American countryside.

\- Sam!- A woman sitting on a crate, holding a young child that was playing with her ponytail called to them and waved her hand. 

Sam smiled and he came towards her with no hesitation, Deadman following, still clutching that cargo to his chest. It was so bizzare to see Sam so happy and willing to actually interact with someone else. Maybe a lot more about him has changed, and he had no idea? He felt a tug of sadness over not being able to be a witness his growth. 

\- Glad to see you’re still in one piece! You managed to get everything?- She asked, her smile warm and inviting.

\- Mama!- The child turned towards Sam with pure glee and started to make grabbing motions towards him.

Deadman held his breath.

\- Yeah, I’ve got all three.- Sam put down both containers on the ground, and extended his hands in a plea.

\- Okay, okay, a promise’s a promise.- The woman laughed and handled the child, giving it back to Sam, picking up one of the cargo boxes Sam brought.

Sam cradled the child to his chest, as it cooed with delight, clumsily tangling its arms into his hair. Deadman could feel blood rushing in his ears, not wanting to get his hopes up. 

\- Hi Lou.- Sam almost whispered, and it made Deadman’s knees weak. 

He stumbled towards Sam, extending his hand, desperate to face him. He must’ve felt his movement, as accutely aware of his surroundings as he always was, because he turned towards him, with the widest smile he ever saw on his face.

\- C’mon Lou, let go of my hair for a moment.- Sam turned her around, gently prying open her fists.- Say hi to Deadman.

After some fuss, Lou started to look around, and her green, bright eyes met Deadman’s. She immidiatly started to laugh and extended her tiny arms towards him, leaning her whole body towards him. She’d fall down if not for Sam’s support. He gently gave her his palm, and she instantly grabbed it with her hands. 

This whole meeting felt so surreal. Chasing a rumor of an old friend, only to become captured, then saved by him, finding out he was still alive and living well, and the child he helped safe was also alive and seemingly growing up healthy and joyful? He expected to wake up at any moment, in his bedroom in Capital Knot, alone in his bed, or to feel a pinch that will bring him back to the land of the living. No such feeling came, however. Instead, he felt two tiny, warm hands gripping his cold fingers. 

\- Okay Sam, great job!- The woman said, bringing Deadman back from his dream-within-a-dream.- The seeds aren’t damaged and are still viable to plant. I have no clue how we lived before you, seriously.

\- You used to asked another Sam, the one up the mountain.- Sam rolled his eyes playfully.

\- Yeah, and he always complained for half an hour before he actually got up to do it. You’re kind enough to spare us that.- She closed the cargo container with a click and stood up.- And what about your BRIDGES friend? 

\- That’s Deadman. He’s the one who helped me with the whole „leaving BRIDGES” thing.- Sam gently grabbed Lou’s arms and tugged them, so she’d let go of Deadman and free his hand.

\- Aaah, mister Deadman!- The woman’s eyes twinkled with recognition.- Sam told me all about you! I think it’s incredibly brave of you to help our Sam and little Lou. It must’ve taken a lot of guts to do something like this!

Deadman turned his head away, shyly. He couldn’t remember a time he ever heard a compliment, especially not from a complete stranger. The idea that Sam talked about him when he got here was making it worse, like he was being force-fed with honey. He already knew his brain will be unable to let go of this thought for at least a few days.

\- I’m Cass Hope.- She extended her hand in a greeting.- Though you probably know me as The Environmental Scientist.

Deadman gave her his hand, and she shook it, her grip strong and sure.

\- What brings you here? Allow me to take this now…- She gently grabbed the sides of the box Deadman was holding, slipping it from his weakened grasp.

\- I’m here on an assignment.- Deadman prayed that, with the state his mind was in, his words will string themselves into somewhat cohesive sentences.- Checking on new strains of crops you’ve send the reports on to us and progres in general.

\- You came here all the way from Capital Knot by yourself?- Cass narrowed her eyes.

\- N-no no no!- Deadman said, flustered- My bodyguards are stationed at the Metro Station. They know I’m here, they won’t come here unless I won’t come back by tomorrow morning.

\- Cufflinks?- She still pressed him on.

\- Tracking my location, but not recording audio.

\- Good.- Cass slowly backed away slightly and sighed.- My apologies if I came off as… intense. Sam and Lou are valued members of our community, and we know about their issues with BRIDGES. We’re very suspicious of any officials. But, hey, Sam seems to trust you, so I should too, I suppose. He’s not the kind that trusts easy.- She winked, patting him so hard on his shoulder he almost lost his balance.

\- Hey, Sam!- She called.

They turned towards him and found him blowing a raspberry to Lou’s giggling, as she was pulling back his cheeks. He looked up at them, tip of his tounge still sticking out.

\- Yeah?

\- Why won’t you take the rest of the day off? Show your friend around, tell him about what we do around here, spend some time together…?- Cass smiled.

\- You know I just do manual labor around here, right?- Sam quirked his eyebrow, Lou’s hands grabbing the skin on his cheekbones.- I can’t get into any specifics or data.

\- I’ll get that ready for next morning, don’t sweat.- She smirked.

\- If you’re so sure about it…- Sam looked to the side, and his eyes suddenly snapped to Deadman.- Y’mind if Lou comes with us?

\- Oh, no, not at all, it’ll be an honor!- Deadman smiled.

\- Good. I need someone to correct me if I’ll start saying some bullshit.- Sam smirked fondly at Lou.- Cass, little help?

\- Coming!- She put the container she took from Deadman and put it next the others. 

She reached behind the crate she was sitting on and pulled out something that looked like a harness from behind it. Sam handed Lou to her, and she gently scooped her in her arms with well practiced moves, like she’d done that a milion times before. Sam slung the straps over his shoulders like a backpack and started to work on the clasps. 

\- Okay, you can put her in.- Sam gestured his head.

Cass carefully put Lou in the sling on the back, with a Ludens keychain attached at the perfect height for her hands. She wasted no time in clumsily grabbing it and turning it around. 

\- Look Lou, you’re gonna be Sam’s foreman for now.- Cass put her arm on Lou’s shoulder, much more tenderly as she did before with Deadman, and stared into her eyes with playful seriousness- You need to pay attention and kick him as hard as you can when he says something wrong, ok? Do it for aunt Cass.

\- Hey!- Sam scoffed, but it was obvious he wasn’t seriously offended.

\- Aim for the kidneys.- She said in a hushed tone, but loud enough for Deadman to hear. She gently ruffled Lou’s Platinum blond, short hair, much to the child’s joy, and activated her cufflinks, her face bathed in neon blue light.

\- If I’ll be decomissioned due to injuries, it’ll be your fault!- Sam called out, as he was slowly making his way towards the entry doors. 

\- Sam, honey, after how long you used to subsist on Monster, I doubt you have much of any kidneys left!- She responded, not lifting her eyes from the cufflink data.- Hey, Deadman!

He turned towards her. She looked at him with a smirk, the palm of the hand with the cufflink in the shape of a „thumbs up” gesture. Deadman’s cufflink vibrated

+15 likes added from The Environmental Scientist


	2. When I awoke the sun was shining, I looked up and I saw your face

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thank you for all the comments and kudos, you really motivated me to sit down and work on it, even though it might've took me some time :)   
> Trigger warning for characters getting slightly tipsy near the end.

The warehouse was stacked almost to the celling with beer cans, packed and ready to ship. The air was distinctly dusty, making it harder to breathe. Deadman inspected the labels on the canisters: all of them being a flavor or type variation of „timefall porter”. Deadman heard quite a lot of praise for the brand from his coworkers, other scientists and even porters, but he himself has never tasted it. He tried beer before, but, as he found out, alcohol doesn’t mix well with a cadaver stomach.

\- Anything in paticular you’re interested in?- Sam’s voice took him out of his train of thought.- Reaserch-wise, I mean.

\- Well… - Deadman looked to the side.- I’m here mostly to monitor your progress, nothing else was specified. Anything interesting you’re working on?

\- Hmmm…- Sam’s eyes darted around the room. A smirk slowly appeared on his face.- Yeah. I think there’s something I can show you.

Sam went past the order terminal and down the steps, his heavy boots echoing through the metal stairway. They went into a corridor, not unlike the ones in living quarters for porters in distro stations. No suprise here, Deadman thought. All the BRIDGES one facilities were standardised and often couldn’t be told apart. He could be shown pictures of these places and he’d never guess which one is which. This one was slightly dimmed, far from the migrene- enducing bright whiteness of distro centers. The floor beneath them shown scratches and traces of mud, likely brought in by the workers coming and going. He heard Lou babble and looked up from his feet. He smiled and waved at her, causing her to laugh.

\- Must be helpful to have her around, huh?- His voice echoed through the corridor.

\- Like you wouldn’t know- Even though Deadman couldn’t see his face, he was sure Sam was smiling.- Nobody suprises me, ever. I can always tell someone’s comming. A good morale boost too.

It seemed like Sam has made quite a life for himself. What was the most jarring was just how… happy he was. Deadman never imagined the antisocial „porter without ties” to actually enjoy being a part of a community. It was a strange feeling: he was happy for Sam, he seemed much better in both body and mind, much less tired and jaded. People find their place where they least expect, he supposed.

They got to the end of the corridor, standing before large metal doors, with the words „HATCHERY+PEN” above it on a screen. Sam pressed his hand against a palm scanner. It briefly lit up neon blue, and the door opened with a click.

\- So… how do you feel about animals?- Sam asked.

Animals?

\- What kind of animals?- Deadman asked a bit warily.

Deadman has never really… had a lot of interactions with animals. The Stranding killed quite a lot of them, including whole taxons, leaving them alive only in memories of those who saw them before and on pages of encyclopedias, seen through the eyes of pre- Stranding artists. Most domesticated species were still alive, in small amounts, on underground farms in Knot Cities, but the only ones who could attest their existence were the workers who tended to them and veterinarians. Few people kept pets, mostly cats and dogs, but being seen with one always caused quite a sensation. The space, even in Knot Cities, was limited, and owning an animal would only take away what little you had to work with from you and your family. A jar of cryptobiotes was usually the closest thing to a pet you could allow yourself to have. Deadman heard scientists before used various species in their tests, but he wasn’t even sure if anyone did so anymore. He always carried out his tests on lab- grown human cells, and he couldn’t say he ever lamented about not having an animal subject.

\- Geese.- Sam looked at him from behind his shoulder, his eye carrying a light- hearted spark.

\- I don’t think I’ve ever seen a goose, to be honest.- Deadman chuckled.

\- Geese!- Lou clapped.

\- You want to show our geese to Deadman?- Sam tried to look down at Lou, straining his neck.

She laughed, pressing her hands to her face.

\- Okay then, miss foreman, you’re the boss.- Sam chuckled, and Deadman was so glad Sam couldn’t see just how embarassingly loving the look in his eyes was.

They entered the room, and Deadman was glad that the birds were separated from people coming in by a small fence with a latch door. There were sacks of, likely, animal feed stacked along the wall. They could hear some concerned honking coming from the animals’ side of the bar, as they likely startled them with the sudden entry.

Sam went towards the barrier, nonchalantly leaning against it and looking down.

\- Are you just gonna stand there?- He asked, turning his head to Deadman.

\- N-no!- Deadman huffed and came closer to Sam.

He leaned onto the fence right next to Sam. The pen had a small pool, with a few feathers floating on the surface. Nearby, an adult goose was sitting on the pile of straw, looking straight at them. There were about five other adult ones, walking around, more or less concerned about their presence, and a dozen or so young ones, digging through the straw with their beaks, likely looking for scraps of food.

\- How long has it been since you started to keep them?- Deadman kept a wary look on the animals.

\- About, uhh… three months ago? Crazy story with them.- Sam reached down to ruffle the hay below, absentmindedly.

\- You have to tell me then! It could be vital for my report!- Deadman coaxed.

\- Well… we wanted to keep chickens at first. So we ordered a batch of fertilised eggs from Mountain Knot to hatch here. Cass said it would be more humane than bringing adult birds or something.- Sam scrunched his nose, trying to recall the details.- The eggs got here, only two cracked, which was apparently impressive.

Deadman chuckled.

\- We set up the entire incubator, it was like, a wooden box with whatever we could find, wood shavings, paper, old clothes and shit like that. Our technician, David, even made a lamp that was keeping them warm. Everyone would check up on them five times a day, everyone’s going crazy to see the chicks. And then, one day, Sadie comes running out of the building and starts to scream „THEY’RE HATCHING! THEY’RE HATCHING!” to all of us working in the fields. Whole settlement comes running, we barely fit, but everyone’s present. One of the eggs is cracked, we’re standing all around it, nobody’s breathing, and we see this tiny bird come out of its shell. We look closer, and we see it’s beak is all flat and it has webbed feet. And then we come to realise someone in Mountain Knot hatchery fucked up and sent us goose eggs instead of chickens’.

\- You didn’t sent them away? I’m sure something like this could be fixed!- Deadman felt slightly more at ease with the birds and managed to pry his eyes away for a moment to look at Sam’s profile.

\- Didn’t want to.- Sam shrugged with a lazy smile.- Everyone got so attached to them, we treat them as members of the community by now. A few people offered that they’ll make them a pool.- Sam pointed at the tank.- So the goslings stayed with us. Cass asked around in other Knot Cities if anyone has adult geese we could use as parents for the ones we had. And they did. All the way in Port Knot.

\- Oh god! I don’t envy anyone having to transport them all the way to you.- Deadman still kept a watchful eye on the geese.

\- Yeah, me neither.- Sam smirked.

\- You think you would be able to do this? If you still worked as a porter, of course.

\- Hmm…- Sam looked down, eyes narrowed in focus.- I think so. Done more with worse conditions.

Only now Deadman realised him and Sam were leaning against eachother, arm to arm. Did Sam not realise how close they were, like he did just a moment ago? He had to, his arm was bare, so he didn’t have an excuse of a coat and a shirt like Deadman have. Was he just… not bothered by this? Sam he knew would jump away the second he sensed the warmth of his body. Did it had something specifically with the fact that it was Deadman standing so close? He tried not to get his hopes up, but he was mortified at the idea of saying something, afraid it would ruin this moment.

\- Y’wanna feed them?- Sam suddenly turned to face Deadman.

\- They won’t attack me?- Deadman heasitated.

\- They might.- Sam shrugged.- Hey Lou, do you think Deadman should feed the geese with us?

\- Geese!- She laughed.

\- You heard the boss.- Sam motioned his head to his back.

Sam quickly turned on his heel, to Lou’s joy, and went towards the stacks of feed. He reached into an open one, dug around in it, the grains clicking against eachother. Sam pulled out a see- through cup, one that looked like a measuring tool used in a kitchen. It was filled with small, round, white pellets.

\- Peas. They love them.- Sam shook the cup gently.

\- Sam…- Deadman sighed.

\- Come on, it’s gonna be fine.- Sam quickly went back to the fence.

Without hesitation, Sam put his foot down on a wooden board that served as a railing, and grabbed it with his free hand. He bouced his second leg, gaining enough momentum to place his second foot next to the first. He stood like that, briefly, and jumped down on the geese’s side, straw rustling under his weight. He looked back at Deadman.

\- You know I can’t do something like that!- Deadman flustered.

\- There’s a latched door on the left, invite yourself in.- Sam pointed to the left, geese already wobbling towards him, honking.

\- They’re gonna eat me alive!- Deadman was grasping at straws, hoping that Sam will spare him the meeting. He had no idea why he was so intimidated by a bunch of fowl.

\- You can handle them!- Sam was digging in the cup, birds swarming at his feet.

He supposed there was no backing out, right? He balled up his hands into fists and took a deep breath, inhaling the smell of straw, stagnant water and dust. He’s got this. He went to the door and pulled out a metal latch, opening them as little as he could and slinked through the gap. He knew almost nothing about animal husbandry, but he got a hunch that giving an animal a big space to escape was a bad idea. He locked the door, and sheepishly went towards Sam, who was now kneeling on one knee, with the birds rabidly pecking his outstretched palm.

\- Oh, you made it!- Sam smiled coyly.

\- Spare me the sarcasm Sam, please.- Deadman sighed.

He looked at the birds up close. Something about their long necks was just unsettling, making his skin crawl. Sam didn’t seem all too bothered, once again proving he’s much braver than Deadman ever was.

\- Come on Deadman, kneel down next to me.- Sam moved his hand in a „come here” gesture.

\- What?! I’m not going down to eye level with these things! I quite like my eyesight and I’d like to keep it!- Deadman desperately refused.

\- Their bark’s scarier than the bite.- Sam kept his eyes on the birds again.- Well, hiss, in their case.

\- They can hiss?!- Deadman asked in disbelief.

\- Just come down here, would you?

Begrudgingly, Deadman slowly kneeled down, trying his best to not let his suit touch the bare concrete, but straw instead. The geese didn’t seem to notice him, their attention squarely on the treats Sam was giving them, which was comforting, for now at least.

\- Is that all they eat?- Deadman tried to focus his mind on something else, other than his proximity to the birds (and Sam).

\- Nah, we give them some of the grain we collect and vegetables too. They go crazy for the lettuce.- The geese ate everything Sam had on his palm, so he reached back to the cup he brought and scooped out more peas.

\- Did you introduce Lou to them?- Deadman smiled.

\- She’s a bit too young to meet the ganders I think.- Sam shrugged.- She loves the goslings though.

\- Children of any species can find a common language, I suppose.- Deadman chuckled.- Do you have any plans for them, besides keeping them?

\- Cass said we’re gonna start trading their eggs in the future, for food I mean. They’re pretty good, lots of yolk. Great for breakfast.- Sam licked his lips.- We’re probably going to trade the adults and fertilised eggs for anyone who wants to start their own colony. Maybe even for meat, but nobody here’s gonna kill them, we don’t have the infrastructure or anyone willing to do this.

\- That’s incredible! Directors in BRIDGES will love this!- Deadman was overjoyed.

\- Yeah, I bet they will.- Sam said dryly.

\- Sam, I understand you don’t have much sympathy for BRIDGES, and I don’t blame you, but this is bigger than that! Think about all the people you’re going to help! You’re going to improve so many lifes!- Deadman really wanted to cup Sam’s cheeks in his hands and turn his face towards him, but he restrained himself, as always.- You should be really proud of yourselves!

\- Y’ think so?- Sam smiled shyly.

\- Sam, I know so.- Deadman’s heart was pounding in his chest.

The birds once again ate everything Sam was offering them. He reached behind himself to grab more food.

\- You should try feeding them too. For your report.- Sam smiled slyly.

\- I don’t know…- Deadman sighed. He felt slightly more at ease with the birds, but he was still mostly a spectator. He dreaded to have the geese’s attention squarely at him.

\- Foreman? Should Deadman feed the geese?- Sam lifted his palm to Lou’s reach, as she laughed and grabbed his pinky and index fingers in her small hands. She looked at Deadman, joy and expectation in her eyes.

\- I guess I have no choice then.- He begrudgingly accepted his fate. It was a low blow, resulting to Lou’s cuteness, but he couldn’t be mad at either of them. At least Sam was next to him, ready to protect him, like he always was.

He scooped up some peas from the cup, closing his palm into a fist, rolling the hard seeds around.

\- Just stay calm, okay?- Sam resumed to feeding the animals, which kept greedily pecking his hand.- They really can’t do anything to you. Keep your fingers stretched out. The pecking can kinda hurt, but you have gloves, so it should be more tolerable.

Only now Deadman has realised he was, indeed, wearing leather gloves he always wore. He forgot about them due to everything that was happening right now. Here comes nothing, he thought.

He extended his shaking arm, keeping his palm flat.

\- H-hey birdies! I have treats for you!- He spoke to four birds who were currently crowding Sam.

One of the geese, a gray one with a brightly orange beak looked up at him and honked, like it was interested.

\- Yes, yes, come here!- He shooked his hand, peas rattling against eachother. The gander backed out from the flock, waddling towards Deadman’s hand. It looked at the food, tilting its head.

\- Come on, I promise you they’re good!- Deadman tried to convince the bird, he wasn’t even sure why.

The goose opened its beak and hissed, an intimidating sound reminiscent of a firework soaring into the sky, showing of the serrated edges of its mouth and a disturbingly mammalian-like tounge. Deadman pushed himself back into the fence behind him, a primal part of his brain desperate to get away from perceived threat.

\- He’s just bluffing, Sam’s just like that.- Sam tried to calm Deadman down.

\- Sam?- He asked in disbelief.

\- Yeah, Sadie’s idea. He’s pretty standoffish to strangers, but he’s pretty calm when he gets to know you. He’s ready to throw hands with anyone trying to pick up goslings.

\- I can see the resemblance.- Deadman laughed nervously.

\- I take it all in my stride.- Sam shrugged.- Try again, just don’t get intimidated.

Deadman took a deep breath, and pushed himself away from the fence, to the kneeling position he was in before.

\- Come on Sam, I’m not here to hurt you or your goslings.- Deadman stared into the bird’s eyes, not sure if he was speaking to Sam the goose, himself or Sam the human.

The gander once again tilted his head, his black eyes boring straight through him. He opened its beak to hiss at him, Deadman now noticing that he also had that teeth- like structure on his tounge. Deadman swallowed, trying his damnest to not back down. The goose backed away and honked to its friends, another bird lifted its head and waddled towards Deadman. They both started to peck his palm, greedily swallowing peas.

\- See, told ya you can do it.- Sam said softly, the tone of his voice tinting the tips of Deadman’s ears.

The strenght with which the geese were hitting his hand was unexpected, each peck slightly lowering his palm.

\- Do you consider this fun?- Deadman asked warily.

\- It’s not that bad.- Sam snorted.- You just need to get used to it. Sometimes I prefer to take shifts here instead of with other people in the fields.

Ah, there was the Sam Deadman was more familiar with.

\- You seemed to hold other members of the community in high esteem. You don’t like spending time with them?- Deadman’s voice concerned.

\- I do, it’s just… overwhelming sometimes, I guess.- Sam stared at the geese eating from his palm.- Even after living here for so long I prefer to spend my time alone. The workers here are good people, don’t get me wrong. Maybe I’m just not suited for this life.

\- I think you’re suited for whatever life you choose. You don’t have to spend all your time with them, I’m sure they understand.- Deadman felt comfortable enough to look at Sam and not the geese for a second.- Cass respects you so much, I can tell.

\- Yeah, she did from the start.- Sam smiled slightly.- I know they respect me, I respect them too, I just feel like I can’t show that to them properly.

\- Reintegrating into a social group is always difficult, after spending so much time alone. I’m sure they understand that you might have some issues and that you’re doing your best.- Deadman spoke softly.

\- I hope they do.- Sam huffed.

Both of their palms were emptied by birds, and they both reached into the cup they brought. To their suprise, they were out of peas, and now their palms were pressed against eachother in the plastic measuring tool. Sam flinched and immidietly pulled away, clearly startled.

\- S-sorry, I’m still kinda jumpy sometimes.- Sam looked away bashfully, rubbing the back of his palm with the knuckle of his left hand.

Deadman could feel every tendom, bone and muscle that pressed against his hand just a moment ago. What a mess.

\- Well, it looks like we’re out for today.- Sam stood up, stretching his arms.- I’d say it’s time for a break. You got enough to put in your report?

\- Yes, that and plenty more.- Deadman chuckled, fixing his glasses.- I’m happy to see that my decision to stick with not using animal subjects was a good one.

Lou stretched her arms above her head clumsily, in a similar way Sam did a moment ago. She opened her mouth wide in a yawn, showing off the few teeth she had.

Break time, then. The foreman said so.

*******

It wasn’t exactly shocking that Sam’s room in the living quaters was so similar to the private rooms in BRIDGES facilities. All of the buildings BRIDGES I build were based on one or two models, for quick and easy printing with chiral printers. There was a simple canvas bed in exactly the same place, with a few shelves embedded into a wall, filled with figurines he knew Sam liked to make. In the place where the shower was, there was instead a chiral printed crib with a yellow bedspread on the matress. Instead of the weapons rack, the space was occupied by a small kitchenette, with a fridge, microwave, a hotplate, sink and a few cupboards on the wall. There were slightly ajar doors on the left, and deadman could see the smaller version of the BRIDGES showers through the crack.

\- Hey, can you hold Lou for a second? I need to change.- Sam asked, rolling his shoulders.

\- Sure, sure!- Deadman was taken out of his thoughts.

He couldn’t remember if he ever even held a baby before. He tried emulating what he saw Cass doing before- he gently scooped her up, holding her under her arms, and leaned her on his chest. Then he held her in his arms. She seemed secure enough.

\- See, you’re a natural.- Sam started to work on the straps of the sling.

\- Has to be enough for now.- Deadman laughed awkwardly.

He looked down at her, into her trusting green eyes. She was smiling widely, beaming like a sun.

\- Hello there, young lady.- He said softly. He wondered if Lou remembered who he was.

She cooed and immidiately started to play with the quipu on the lapel of his coat. This time, Deadman didn’t mind someone was doing this.

The more he looked around the room, the more details he noticed. There was a half opened crate of timefall porter standing on top of the fridge. The dreamcatcher Sam always wore around his neck was hanging on a small clothes hook right next to his bed and a small table with a jar of cryptobiotes floating around in their habitat.

His eyes lingered a bit longer on his bed. It wasn’t made, the douve was bunched up in the legs, and the pillow was dented under the weight of his head. It was obvious this is where he slept every night. It was ridiculus, he saw Sam sleep many, many times when he was a porter, either on security cameras on by simply coming into his room when he needed to give him some intel, but this just felt different. Sam never used the provided bedding. He used to stumble into his room, make sure Lou’s pod was secured in the incubator and just fall onto his bed, too exhausted to even take off his timefall- proof suit, someone from the staff always having to take it off him for decontamination. He lied there for the night, barely moving, and then woke up, got dressed and went out to deliver who knows what to who knows where. This was much more intimate- he could imagine Sam sitting on the edge of the bed after a long day of work, yawning so hard his jaw cracks and his eyes water, feeling tired in a good way, the kind of tiredness that comes with a day of physical labor with visible results. He could see Sam bundling up and just be allowed to rest and not have to worry about being watched, drained for blood or expected to do another borderline impossible delivery next day.

He wished so much that he could join him. To hold him close when he slept, to make him feel safe and well rested. To card his hand through his hair, feel his slow heartbeat and his chest rising and falling, to hear him mumble in his sleep. To wake up next to him, eat scrambled goose eggs for breakfast and talk over tea.

He was so glad Lou decided to pull on his earlobe as hard as she could at that very moment.

\- Ouch!- He yelped.

\- Ah, sorry about that.- Sam was hanging his hat on one of a row of hooks near the main door.- She’s at that stage where she just tries to grab whatever’s in her range.

\- It’s fine.- Deadman gently grabbed Lou’s hand and pulled it away from his ear.- That’s a good thing, actually, just means she’s developing properly.

\- Yeah, she is.- Sam was toeing off his boots.- She can sit by herself now.

\- That’s great to hear.- Deadman looked down at Lou and smiled at her.- I was somewhat worried if she will be growing up in the same way children born in a usual way will. I couldn’t find any records on anyone actually doing any reaserch on BB development after they’re taken from the pod.

\- She’s a fighter.- Sam smiled proudly.

\- No doubt about that.- Deadman gently ruffled Lou’s hair, to her delight.

\- Y’can sit by that table if you want.- Sam pointed to the small, chiral printed table near the bed, with two chairs on either side.

Deadman sat on the chair closer to the door. It was as comfotable as chiral- printed furniture was, which means not much.

\- You want some beer or something?- Sam went to the kitchenette, leaning on the counter.

\- No, thank you.- Deadman declined politely. Only then he remembered where he was and what Sam does for a job.- N-not that I don’t want to! Health concerns, you see.

\- Gotcha. Water, tea?

\- You grow tea here?- Deadman’s eyes widened.

\- Nah, we have it from the guy from up the mountains. Novelist’s Son I think?- Sam looked to the side, trying to remember.- He grows tons of different rare plants. Tea is his newest project.

\- I wouldn’t want to deprive you of such a rare treat.- Deadman smiled softly.

\- I’m the one offering, right?- Sam shruged, his voice fond.

\- All right, all right.- Deadman chuckled.

He watched Sam take out a metal teapot, pour water into it, and place it on the hotplate, turning it on.

\- I’ll be back in a moment.- Sam went towards the bathroom, the door closing behind him.

This was… nice. Domestic. Deadman could get used to it. For now, he decided to indulge in his fantasy. It’s not like he was doing any harm to anyone but, arguably, himself.

Sam came back to the room, dressed in the same tank top and black pants, not unlike the standard issue BRIDGES ones for porters. As his feet touched the floor of the main living space, the kettle started to whistle.

\- Perfect timing.- Deadman said, amused.

Sam turned off the hotplate and started to rummage in his cupboards, porcelain mugs clinking against eachother.

\- You don’t use chiral- printed cups?- Deadman asked, shifting Lou in his arms a bit.

\- There’s too much chiral- printed shit in this room already.- Sam didn’t turn to face Deadman, still digging through the shelves.- but I get that it has to be this way. I’ll still take any chance to get anything original.

\- Where did you order them?- Deadman inquired. He drinked a lot of tea when he worked, and he would love to get a porcelain mug, especially now that he knew that Sam liked them. Just another little thing to remind him of him.

\- Lake Knot I think.- Sam finally picked one, and closed the cupboard. - I didn’t order them. It was a housewarming gift from Cass when we got here.

\- She chose fragile cups? She wasn’t worried they’ll get cracked during the delivery?

\- I chose them, actually.- Sam grabbed a tin standing on the counter, opening it with a pop.- She gave me a list of possible gifts and I had to choose one, and the cups seemed reasonable. Thankfully it arrived with a huge order of wheat seeds and other supplies, so they got here by a truck. Poor bastard had to get all the way here through the rocks and MULEs, but they did it, not even a scratch on any of them. I hope Cass gave them a lot of likes.

\- I’m happy to know not all of our porters are as clumsy as the one you had to clean up after today.- Deadman watched Sam take out a small basket to hang on the side of the cup and put some of the dried tea into it.

\- They’re fine usually, maybe the cargo is slightly battered, but it’s nothing too serious.- Sam poured the boiling water into the cup, steam rising to the celling.

\- But you could deliver them in mint condition?- Deadman smirked.

\- I just have experience.- Sam shrugged.- They’ll do half as many deliveries as I did and they’ll be just as good.

Sam grabbed the mug and came to Deadman, putting it in front of him. It was dark purple, with small specks that made it look like a starry night sky. The artist has hand- painted a smiling bat, hanging upside down, with the words „keep your chin up!” next to it. Lou cooed and waved her hand towards it.

\- Is this one your favorite?- Deadman asked her.

\- Don’t let her touch it!- Sam, who was standing on the tips of his toes to reach the beer on his fridge called out, badly hiding the panic in his voice.

\- Don’t worry, I won’t.- Deadman made sure Lou was held securely.

Sam pulled down a can of timefall porter and made his way to the table, placing the beer in front of the unoccupied chair. He went to the cradle Lou likely sleeped in, and pulled out a plush otter, made out of soft material, with brown fur, cream belly, and black, embroided eyes. He came back to the table, pressing the toy to his torso with his arm. He stretched his hands towards Deadman, asking for Lou, in the same way he wordlessly asked Cass earlier.

\- Here you go Lou, go to your mama.- Deadman gently pried Lou from his chest and handed her to Sam.

He hugged her with such tenderness any onlooker would think they haven’t seen eachother in ages. Never in his life Deadman was so sure he made the right decision about taking off Sam’s cufflinks as he was in that moment, his heart feeling raw, but somehow in a good way.

Sam sat in the chair across Deadman, allowing Lou to sit on his laps, her head barely above the table.

\- Look who’s here!- Sam said in an almost singing voice, showing her the plush otter.

She gasped, grabbing the toy and putting its head into her mouth.

Now they could finally start to talk.

\- So, Sam…- Deadman pressed his thumb to the mug’s handle, tracing it.- How have you been?

\- Starting off simple, huh?- Sam smirked, opening the can of beer with a click and a hiss.- Well, I suppose. Wasn’t easy at first.

\- Why did you decide to go work as a farmhand? Never though you’re the type to feel the call to agriculture.- Deadman carefully tasted the tea. Still a bit too hot, but with a rich, slightly bitter flavor.

\- Sorry I didn’t offer any sugar- Sam apologised, looking at the cup.- Don’t have any.

\- Don’t worry, I drink bitter tea when I work all the time.- Deadman reassured.- Now, we have more interesting topics than my tea preferences.

\- Right.- Sam nodded.- We left the incinerator, and I’ve just felt on this, like, high. Like everything is going to turn out okay, and that we were free to do what we want. Then the rain started to fall, and I’ve realised just how much I was fucked. I had nothing, and I couldn’t just come back to Capital Knot for supplies or some shit.

\- You should’ve contacted me.- Deadman tried his best to hide a hint of sadness in his voice, but didn’t succeed.- I could’ve at least get you a few things.

\- I didn’t want to put you into any more trouble.- Sam sighed, avoiding Deadman’s gaze.- My brain was blank, I panicked and just… went the other way. I thought the preppers I’ve connected might help me.

\- And who did you go to?- Deadman kept idly playing with his mug, waiting for his drink to cool.

\- A guy named Geoff, I think his UCA name is Ludens’ Fan?- Sam quirked his eyebrow, hoping Deadman will know who he’s talking about.

\- Ah, Geoff!- Deadman’s eyes lit up, to Sam’s relief.- I know him! We traded figurines a couple times.

\- You collect figurines?- Sam opened his eyes widely.

\- Yes?- Deadman couldn’t gauge Sam’s tone. Was it suprise? Amusement? Mocking?- You sculpture figurines, you of all people should understand the appeal.

\- I do.- Sam once again looked to the side sheepishly. Deadman could swore the tips of his ears were pink, but maybe it was just the lighting playing tricks on him.

\- How did Geoff treat you?- Deadman tried his drink again. It was cooler now, thankfully.

\- Well. He printed us some stuff and allowed us to stay a couple nights. My plan was that we’ll stay at his shelter for a couple days, I’ll locate some abandoned one and we’ll move and make our home there.- Sam placed his right hand on the table. Deadman could see he still had a faint, pink scar on his wrist where his cufflinks used to be.- These things are tiny! There was barely enough space for him and all his things, can’t imagine living there with more than one other person.

\- Most of the preppers live alone, you’re right.- Deadman held the mug in his palms, the warmth helping with his bad circulation.- That’s the point though, right? They enjoy that feeling of lonesomeness.

\- Yeah, that’s why I didn’t want to overstay my welcome.- Sam grabbed his can and took a swig of beer, Deadman trying his damnest to not focus on the bob of his adam’s apple.- I left after a few days. He printed and ordered me a few stuff, mostly for Lou, and told me I should go to the Musician.

\- Daichi?- Deadman inquired.

\- How do you know all these people’s names?- Sam asked, genuenely suprised.

\- What do you mean how?- Deadman’s voice amused.- I care about all the members in the network. Geoff and Daichi live close to Capital Knot, I contact them regularly.

\- I didn’t know.- Sam shrugged.- Anyway, same thing with Daichi, we stayed there a couple days, I looked for a place to live, but still nothing. I started to realise my idea kinda sucks. Even if we did find a shelter to live, just the two of us, someone would still have to bring us supplies. I don’t have cufflinks, and I’m not putting this shit on my wrist ever again, so I couldn’t order anything by myself. The shelter would likely not even be in the network. I can live with that, I don’t care, I can live on cryptobiotes and rainwater, but Lou? She deserved a better life than that. A life, not just existence, no matter how corny this sounds.

\- I don’t think it sounds corny.- Deadman took a sip of his tea.- I think it’s admirable you want to give her more than just keep her alive.

\- Thanks.- Sam smiled bashfully and took another swig of his beer.- We managed to sneak onto a cargo ship, Viktor promised to not rat us out. I think he was grateful I was taking care of Lou.

\- Of course he was.- Deadman smiled.- I think he and Igor liked Lou more than they let on.

\- Who can blame them?- Sam gently pinched Lou’s cheek as she laughed, the otter still in her mouth.- And then we just kinda… drifted. From one shelter to the next, never staying more than a few days in one. All these people, they’ve shown us so much kindness, nobody ever turned us down…- His voice cracked, barely noticably.

\- I think there’s more kind people in this world than we let on.- Deadman really wanted to cradle Sam’s cheek, but the heat radiating from his cup had to be a meagar consolation prize.

\- Maybe you’re right.- Sam rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand and sniffled.- I think we were at Jordan’s, The Musician’s house when he told me he got an email a from the Timefall Farm, that they were rebranding their operation and were looking for people to move in and help. I thought that this was our chance and we went off.

\- Rebranding? Why?- Deadman asked.

\- ‘Cus timefall’s gone.- Sam shrugged. Ah. Of course. Deadman felt ridiculus.- They came here to study its effects on crops. Since SOMEONE has managed to get us more time, their potential reaserch went down the drain, and they were now stuck with a huge farm.

\- They?

\- Cass and her husband Derek.- Sam drinked more of his beer.

Cass had a husband. Deadman felt a weight that fell from his heart, only to immidietly feel twice as guilty.

\- I like that about them. They were scientists, but they weren’t afraid to get their hands dirty and decided they’re gonna do their best with what they have, and grow food for other people.- Sam smiled fondly while staring at nothing in paticular.- I know we joked about her being a foreman, and she is, in a way, but she does the physical labor along with us.

\- Must be a nice change of pace after BRIDGES?- Deadman asked, maybe with a bit too much bite than he intented.

\- You guys do plenty of work, that whole expedition would go to shit if it wasn’t for you.- Sam said confidently.

\- That’s a relief.- Deadman chuckled.- How does the welcome committee looked like when you got here, mister Great Deliverer?

\- I honestly don’t remember.

\- How?! 

\- Travelling is much different when you have to watch out to not squish the child you have strapped to your chest- Sam huffed.- I was exhausted when I started to get close. You need to think twice as much, watch out for things you didn’t care about before. The MULEs that live near the farm spotted me. I thought they’re gonna leave us, since the only cargo I had was for me and Lou and didn’t have any tags on it. But they started to chase us, throw these fucking electric poles after us when I ran. I was right pass these sensors when one of these bastards hit me in the leg with that pole. I managed to turn around and fall on my back and hit my head. Lou was fine, but if those fuckers hurt her even on accident…- Sam snarled and curled the hand splayed on the table into a fist.

\- Yes, the MULEs living next door seem to be awfuly aggresive…- Deadman rubbed his neck, suddenly feeling the phantom sensation of their rope constricting him.

\- I think the noise must’ve alarmed people working in the fields.- Sam sighed, cooling himself down.- When I woke up, I was in this room, Lou asleep next to me. I stumbled through the whole facility, got lost about twice untill I found someone I could talk to. They called Cass and Derek to the room we were in to talk.

\- Did they recognise you?

\- Cass and Derek did, they saw me before a couple times when I delivered some orders for them and connected them to the network. Nobody else did.- Sam chugged more of his beer.- I told them my whole story, that Lou was the BB I used to travel with, that we needed a place to stay and I was willing to work for them.

\- What did they offer you?

\- Why, you want to join us?- Sam said sarcastically, though without any underlying meanness.

\- You never know.- Deadman shrugged with a coy smile.- Maybe the farms at Knot Cities should have different payment.

\- I doubt it’s anything you don’t offer now.- Sam looked to the side.- A place to live. Three square meals. Amenities like shower. Basic medical care. Anything Lou might need.

\- And in return?

\- Uhh… Anything they’ll need, really. I just kinda do everything. I think they enjoy having an ex- porter around. The workers here are good people and they learn quick, but you can tell most of them never left Knot Cities untill recently.

That’s true, Sam as a porter likely had a lot to offer for a small community of city slickers. Excellent physical condition, ability to drive, being trained in hand to hand combat and use of weaponry, being used to improvising and finding unusual solutions… He did seem like quite a catch.

\- But mostly I do everyday physical labor, like cleaning, taking care of the geese, helping in the fields with the harvest…

\- Helping BRIDGES scientists in need?- Deadman quirked his eyebrow.

\- That’s a first for me.- Sam laughed, once again makind Deadman’s heart flutter.

\- You weren’t bothered that you’d have to live with other people?- Deadman was honestly curious. Willingly joining a commune was the last thing he’d imagined him to do.

\- I kinda was, at the start. I was wary, but I thought that my issues shouldn’t take the chance to grow up with other people from Lou.- Sam gently placed his hand on Lou’s head, ruffling her hair as she cooed happily.- I grew up alone, and look at how I ended up. I want a better future for her.

Deadman just smiled with understanding and noded his head. Sam really shouldn’t be so harsh on himself.

Lou yawned, her eyes getting droopy, as she leaned into Sam.

\- Oh dear.- Deadman spoke quietly.- It looks like we’ve bored little Lou.

Sam gently took away the plush toy from her hands and picked her up, standing up from his chair, trying to make as little noise as possible. He went to the crib and gently put her in with her otter, tenderly kissing her forhead. He spun a mobile above it, the whale cutouts glinting in the light, along with something else made out of metal that was attached to it, but Deadman couldn’t tell what it was. Sam came back to the table, taking his place. He was now sitting cross-legged, and Deadman could swear he was leaning closer to him.

\- S’ how are things in BRIDGES?- Sam asked, his speech slightly slurred.

\- I thought you don’t really care much about BRIDGES anymore.- Deadman sipped his tea. He almost finished it, leaving small bits of the leaves near the bottom.

\- ‘Cus I don’t.- Sam shrugged.- But you do.

\- W-well…- Deadman stammered slightly, not really prepared for Sam’s answer.- I think everything is going well. There’s no big issues at any part of the supply chain, so everyone has at least the basics they need for everyday life.

\- Science division isn’t too mad about reverting the Stranding?- Sam tilted his head.

\- Don’t worry about our reaserch, Sam.- Deadman said with confidence.- There is still plenty of things to study and discover. There was even before BTs and Timefall.

\- Hah, you sound just like Cass.- Sam’s eyes wandered on the walls of his room.- You two could really hit it off.

\- I don’t think our areas of expertise overlap, exactly.- Deadman said good-naturely.- I know nothing about keeping things alive. Death is more of a speciality of mine.

\- Don’t say that.- Sam rolled his eyes, smiling.- You managed to keep Lou alive when she was in her pod.

\- I suppose I did.- Deadman looked to the side bashfully.

\- And it’s not like you couldn’t learn, right?- Sam’s posture was relaxed, Deadman wasn’t sure if it was due to alcohol or something else. He didn’t want to get his hopes up.- I didn’t know shit about anything when I got here. Others had to teach me everything.

\- You’re a quick learner Sam, you have to be.- Deadman looked at him fondly.

It was a mistake. Sam’s eyes were half-lidded, warm, and inviting. It’s like his inhibitions were halted, like he was showing his true feelings and desires. They were like a fireplace, and he was a foolish moth, who should turn back but couldn’t. He could feel red creeping up from his collar.

\- Y-you look well, Sam. Much better than you did when you were a porter.- Deadman tried to give himself some plausible deniability of being a doctor interested in his friend’s health, but he knew this likely won’t fly.

\- Yeah, you tend to sleep much better when you’re not being bled dry or tormented by visions of the end of the world.- He blinked slowly, like a cat.

Deadman looked down into his cup, not sure what to say. He moved it, the remnants of his drink sloshing around.

\- Why did you come here?- Sam asked, more curiously than with aggression.

\- What do you mean?- Deadman wasn’t sure about the specifics. He ment the farm? His living quarters? For his sake, he hoped it was the first one.

\- The farm. You’re not interested in any of this. BRIDGES could send someone who actually works in agriculture.- Sam narrowed his eyes, though they still didn’t exactly loose that relaxed warmth.

Deadman looked down on the table, trying to gather his thoughts. He didn’t want to come off as some kind of a creep obsessed with him. He gripped the cup in his hand, the cool porcelain grounding him. He should tell the truth. He owed Sam that much.

\- I…- He started. Fuck, why was it so difficult?- There are rumors about a man with his arms covered in handprints working in the Timefall Farm. At first I thought it was a mistake, that someone just had odd birthmarks or bruises, but I heard it month after month after month. I decided that there has to be some kind of a basis to this. There was only one man I knew it could be.- He laughed awkwardly, feeling bold enough to look at Sam’s face. He was listening attentively, his face unreadable. Deadman immidietly regretted it and casted his face down.- I was waiting for my opportunity to visit and see if it really was you. The rest is history, as they say.

He still didn’t feel brave enough to look into Sam’s captivating eyes again. He was waiting for him to respond, say anything. The silence and anticipation were borderline physically painful.

\- Y’ care about me that much…?- Sam finally spoke, his voice filled with honest suprise.

\- Of course I care about you, Sam!- Deadman said a bit too loudly and suddenly, his veins filled with pure cortisol. He quickly remembered that Lou was asleep and lowered his voice.- There wasn’t a day where I didn’t think about you and Lou! I was so worried she died, or you did! There were nights where I couldn’t sleep! Seeing you in that MULE camp, alive and well and healthy, and then seeing her…!- Deadman could feel his eyes prickling, tears flowing down his cheeks.

\- Hey, don’t cry.- Sam extended his right hand towards him, clumsily sliding it against Deadman’s cheek, stroking his thumb under his eye. Deadman wanted nothing more than to lean into Sam’s palm, his warmth would soothe his racing mind,-

He felt Sam’s lips crush against his own. Deadman’s eyes shot open, breath hitched in his throat. This was a dream. This had to be a dream. He was still in that barn, the MULEs knocked him out and this was just a plesant dream, like hundreds of similar ones he had about Sam.

But then Sam’s lips moved against his. And again. This was happening. The moment he was dreaming about for so long was happening, and he was too mortified to do anything. His thoughts were racing. He should pull away. Sam was drunk, he would never do that if he wasn’t. He would never be attracted to someone like him. Suddenly, he felt like someone turned an off switch in his brain. All of these panicked, racing thoughts were silenced by the fact that Sam was here. He was tangible, he could touch him, and he wanted him. This was happening.

He might as well indulge.

He closed his eyes hard, squeezing a few leftover tears and kissed Sam back, his lips tasting like the finest quality hop. Sam made a suprised hum, but continued to gently move his lips against his. Deadman felt slightly emboldened, and lifted his hand, gently putting it on the wrist of Sam’s hand, the same one he still kept on his cheek. He trailed upwards, bristling the hairs on Sam’s arm. God, he couldn’t believe he could finally run his hands against Sam’s muscles. He’s been dreaming about it since he first saw him in Capital Knot a year ago. His bicep was just as taut as he imagined, and his tricep was just as strong. Perfect for a man who worked so hard to keep everyone safe and sound. His lips twitched in a smile.

God, this was awkward. It’s been so long since he’s been so close with anybody, not even mentioning the fact that Sam was leaning over the table, distancing them further. He had no doubt that he was clumsy and awkward, but Sam didn’t pull away, so he had to be doing something right. He was hoping Sam will know what he was doing. He used to be married, he should have more experience than him, right?

It seems like he got his wish. Sam, probably feeling braver due to Deadman’s caress, gently pushed his tounge into Deadman’s mouth and brough his other hand to the other side of his face, his fingers brushing through his beard. It sent shivers down his spine. This was so much. He thought he’s going to be a mess if this situation would happen (he used to think „keep dreaming, moron”, and look who’s laughing now), but he felt remarcably relaxed. Slightly tense, sure, but it was the good kind of tension where he anticipated what will come next instead of dreading it.

He figured he should do something with his right hand, now awkwardly splayed on the table. He really hoped his palm wasn’t cold, as it often was. He lifted it, it felt heavy, like it was cast in concrete, his fingers twitching from the nerves. He found his purchase on Sam’s shoulder, he could feel the rough cotton of the shoulder strap of his shirt. Sam groaned, tinting Deadman’s cheeks a deeper shade of pink. He felt the need to investigate further. He slowly slid his palm up Sam’s neck, resting the heel right next to his windpipe, tips of his fingers on the side of his spine. He gently brushed his thumb in the place his earlobe and lower jaw meet, a smooth and slow move reminiscent of striking a match.

It must have worked, because Sam just _moaned_ and deepened their kiss. Deadman felt like the tips of his ears were on fire. This whole situation made him feel like he was drunk, like Sam somehow passed his tipsyness to him through their kiss.

Everything good has to end, however, and Sam pulled away, clearly breathless. He was breathing deeply, his lips more plump than before. Almost all of the skin Deadman could see was red, from his shoulders, creeping all the way through his neck, cheeks and tips of his ears. His eyes still had that relaxed hazyness, but they reminded Deadman of a dying fireplace, with warm embers still there, and fully capable of keeping him warm. He looked disheveled, and the fact that it was because of Deadman filled him with a strange sense of pride, even though he probably didn’t look much better. That’s part of the fun, he supposed.

\- S-sorry.- Sam suddenly became bashful, averting his eyes to the floor, hitching up his shoulders, swallowing the eccess saliva in his mouth, his skin somehow becoming even more red.- I-I don’t know what came over me, the booze just hit me-

\- Sam.- Deadman said as softly as he could.- I wanted this. It’s okay. Did you want this?

\- Y-yes.- He submissively lowered his head even more, shoulders even higher. It was amusing, after finding out how sensitive his neck was, but Deadman wasn’t going to tease him about it. Not right now, at least.

\- Sam, I promise you, it’s fine. Can you look at me?- Deadman spoke in the most even and relaxed way he could, even though he was still a bit breathless.

Sam took a deep breath, his shoulders lowering with the exhale. He slowly lifted his head and gazed into Deadman’s eyes with nervous anticipation. Not in his wildest dreams did Deadman expect to be the more calm one after his and Sam’s kiss.

\- I don’t know what happened to me.- Sam started out apologeticaly, with slight panic in his voice.- I just wanted to relax, and what did I do? I made out with my friend who I haven’t seen in a year.- He huffed, smiling sarcastically.- Pathetic.

\- You’re not pathetic Sam. You really shouldn’t be so hard on yourself.- Deadman kept the eye contact, his voice slightly sad.- If I didn’t want that, I wouldn’t have kissed you back.- He felt that his cheeks were turning red again.- And besides, I’d say you acted like quite a gentleman. Starting out slow and whatnot.

\- You just seemed so overcome with emotions, you seemed so honestly happy to see me and Lou…- Sam’s eyes were darting around the room, seeming much more sober and present.- I just… nobody was ever so happy to see me, to know that I’m doing well… You really followed a rumor all the way here from Capital Knot?

\- Yes, I did. I would do that again.- Deadman spoke, sure of every word.- And if you wouldn’t be here, I would probably follow the next one.

\- Y’think there would be a next one?

\- Of course!- Deadman laughed.- You’re a folk hero to these people! They create art about you, talk about you, name their children after you!

\- And geese?- Sam smiled shyly.

\- And geese, apparently.

They both chuckled, easing off some of the tension in the room.

\- Sam, you really made me the happiest man in BRIDGES today.- Deadman sighed.

\- Happy to hear that.- Sam kept that half-smile on his face.- Oh god, I can already hear Cass teasing me tomorrow, because I won’t be able to get that dumb grin off my face.

Deadman’s heart fluttered at the thought of Sam smiling the whole day due to him, waking up happy and falling asleep with him as the last thing on his mind.

\- Do you really have to leave tomorrow?- Sam sighed, staring at him with half-lidded eyes.

\- Hmm…- Deadman scratched his chin.- I have nothing urgent on the shedule, if that’s what you’re worried about. My bodyguards would probably love to have some time to visit their friends in the Distro Center… I can probably pull some strings to convince Die-hardman I need to investigate further… You’re not worried about Cass?

\- She’s married, I’m pretty sure she’s used to dealing with lovestruck idiots.- Sam snickered.

\- I hope she is.- Deadman brushed a strand of his hair behind his ear, more of a tic than for any real need.

\- Can I…?- Sam brushed his fingertip against Deadman’s hand.

\- Hold my hand?- Deadman asked, wanting to clarify.

\- Yeah…- Sam looked away, lips pursed.

\- Of course.- Deadman weaved their fingers together, gently pressing the dots tattooed on Sam’s knuckles.

In this tranquill moment, Deadman though that he should write more about Timefall Porter in his report. If it had the same effect on other people as on them, BRIDGES might have a cure for the loneliness epidemic plaguing America, even better than synthetic oxytocin. 


End file.
